


Feral

by Horrible_Mattastrophe



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Depressed Hanzo Shimada, Kitsune Hanzo Shimada, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Werewolf Jesse McCree
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:02:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23082172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Horrible_Mattastrophe/pseuds/Horrible_Mattastrophe
Summary: Tonight is the anniversary of Genji's death. Tonight is when Hanzo drinks until he can't hold his human shape properly anymore. Tonight, he is the most vulnerable, and he opens himself up to whatever danger may cross his path. And it does.
Relationships: Jesse McCree/Hanzo Shimada
Comments: 4
Kudos: 46





	Feral

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly don't know what I'm doing, this is mostly a layout of a comic I want to do, but hey, if you're here, thanks for giving my writing a chance!

Hanzo is too drunk for the cold or the guilt settling in his chest to bother him. His senses clouded, all he can register is the crunch of his feet in the snow and the shuffle of his unfurling tails to cover his tracks.  
  
Winter is almost too quiet, but he appreciates the peace while it lasts. At least he can still get back to his den in this state, not like he hasn't done it several times before. To reach his den, curl up in the corner of his nest, and black out is his only relief at this point.  
  
Relaxing his magic a little more, his ears perk back up into fox ears, and suddenly, he can hear something else.

There is something bigger, yet somehow quieter, and it's getting closer.

Hanzo stops for a moment, having the tiniest bit of sense not to lead this creature straight to his den. His ears swivel, trying to detect where the sound is coming from. He can feel his heart begin to pound faster in his chest, but not in fear.  
  
The heavy footsteps are slow and steady, they almost seem calculated, like a predator sneaking up on its prey.  
  
Hanzo can't move, his sense of fight or flight dulled. Or maybe he just doesn't care anymore.  
  
Then there's hot breath on his neck, and he bristles. How did it get so close so quietly?  
  
Hanzo turns slowly, careful not to make any sudden movements, and is face to face with an enormous wolf. Its nostrils flare at him, and it licks its chops.  
  
Frozen, he reflexively assesses the enemy.  
  
Disregarding the size, it's unusual for a wolf. If it were to eat him, it would have urged him to run, to get the blood pumping in his veins so it could revel in the hunt and gorge itself on the escaping heat of his carcass, but instead it sticks its snout in his face, sniffing at him, and stares intently with its golden eyes.  
  
Hanzo doesn't break the eye contact, decides that it is not a particularly honorable way to die, mauled by a dire wolf and left to stain the snow red, but at least he would contribute to helping another creature, more than he ever had in his life.

The buzz in his brain turns to a twinge of pain and he flinches slightly, then pauses, gauging the wolf's reaction. Annoyingly, it only cocks its head. Of all the things Hanzo could be stuck with on this very night, it had to be a tame wolf with no instinct or intent to rip him apart.  
  
He slumps to his knees, ignoring the uncomfortable wet of the snow on his hakama, and clutches at the wolf's russet coat in a silent plea.  
  
It cranes its neck towards him, and Hanzo relaxes, anticipates a swift gnash of teeth on his neck, but only gets a cold, wet nose snuffling at his shoulder. Disappointing. Incredibly disappointing, but he has no energy left to slap the wolf's snout away, and its fur is so warm. He lets out a sigh, and remembers nothing after.

  


* * *

  
  


Hanzo awakens in his nest with a sharp pain in his head, the typical aftermath of his day of mourning. That was a strange dream, but nothing out of the ordinary given how much he drank. For now, a nice, hot breakfast would suffice as motivation to carry on a little longer.  
  
Sluggishly, he stalks to the bathroom and washes the sleep out of his eyes, then looks himself over in the mirror. He's still in his hakama, to which he crinkles his nose at - usually he takes the time to at least undress or change before he collapses into his nest, but apparently not this time.  
  
He strips and goes to open the shoji in the main room to shake out any dust before he puts it in the wash, but is met with a bundle of one of his quilts settled in front of the doors. It's probably something else he did while drunk.  
  
Hanzo bends down to pick it up to shake out along with his hakama, but then it _breathes _.__  
  
He quickly retracts his hand. The thought of possibly living leftovers from a hunt crosses his mind but is silenced with the observation that the quilt had no signs of blood. With a soft groan, the bundle suddenly turns over, and Hanzo swiftly puts distance between himself and the creature, just in case.  
  
It was a man.  
  
_How did a man get in here? How did he find this place? ___Hanzo's ears twitch with curiosity and frustration. He crouches next to the sleeping intruder, inspecting him.  
  
The man was incredibly scruffy - brown hair messy and a rough beard, but in contrast, his features were soft. A simple man couldn't be a threat.  
  
But Hanzo cocks his head as something catches his eye - perched atop the man's head are pointed, canine ears. His eyes widen with realization.  
  
It wasn't just a dream. He encountered a werewolf, and now it's here, in his den. He retreats again, and ponders his options.  
  
Hanzo could absolutely apprehend a sleeping werewolf, but if his memories of last night were real, it would be no such way to treat him. For now, he had to assess if this man could truly be a threat.  
  
He can only assume how old the werewolf is, to check his possible aggression and self-control, but showing signs of lycanthropy, even while in human form, was nothing like he had ever seen before.  
  
In conclusion, it was best to wait until the werewolf woke up on his own. 


End file.
